Daemonium+sosia=Sosiamonium

This was requested by @scourge33 on tumblr, who said, "My request/idea would be a tickle fic with Al and Vox, Al being the lee? But not necessarily enemy torture mode. More as a nostalgic memory of their previous friendship. Or it takes place before they become enemies."

Ask and you shall receive my good fellow

I like to think that their relationship pre-fight was really sweet despite the constant bickering they would probably do lol, so I definitely tried to include that, and the result is this fluffy, violently adorable piece

This is a platonic SFW tickle fic, if that doesn't suit your tastes, then kindly keep scrolling

He learns that he doesn't have to pretend to be white anymore and he's promptly hit with emotions like a bag of bricks to the face.

On one hand, he's completely elated. He can actually be himself, have his curly hair and accent and mannerisms, etc, and NOT have to worry about being hatecrimed/having his reputation ruined. And on top of that, he can make fun of white people???? Let's Fucking Go

On the other hand, Ouch, Oh No, He Is Feeling Emotions. It's probably a lot to realize that you don't have to hide yourself anymore after doing it for over a fucking century. He's hit with the realization in front of the others and he just like,,,freezes. Kind of wide-eyed and someone asks if he's okay and he just kind of deflects like Yes, I Am Always Fine 100% Of The Time, Why Do You Ask

He's not though. He actually feels like he's on the verge of crying because of how utterly OVERWHELMING the influx of emotion is, but of course he doesn't say that. Never in a million years because - again - Ew, Emotions

Then he goes up to his room and DOES start crying because he was just hit with the realization that yes, his hair is curly, but he doesn't actually know how to take care of it. He can straighten it, but that's about it, which Hurts. Over 100 years of pretending to be a white man, and once he finally doesn't have to anymore, Alastor realizes that he doesn't actually know how to be his real self. And maybe he did once, or maybe he NEVER knew how. Either way, it Hurts and feels Bad and Awful

I like the idea that Alastor is so Not with the times that he doesn't realize that racism isn't as prevalent as it used to be. (Still around but definitely not like before.)

He's been straightening his hair and putting on a Specific Accent for the past century trying so hard to be white-passing, not having realized that not many people would bat an eye anymore towards his curls. Hell, some people would swoon if he Talked Southern to them.

I want him to be punched in the face with the realization that he doesn't really NEED to do that anymore. Like, maybe a hotel guest calls him a cracker and he's genuinely taken aback that you can make fun of white people for being white and NOT fear mass persecution. (And also low-key offended/disgusted to be mistaken for a caucasian man, despite deliberately trying to pass as white. He knows it doesn't make sense, shut up.)

Alastor: Vaggie.

Vaggie: Uh, what?

Alastor: One of our guests accused me of being a "lily white" man. Like it's an insult. Have I missed something or is pretending to be a white man not a valid survival technique anymore?

Vaggie: ... Why are you pretending to be a white man?

Alastor:

Alastor: The fact that you're asking me that tells me SO much.

On the flip side, the realization that he can make fun of white people now becomes Alastor's FAVORITE modern development. His next radio broadcast easily becomes his most popular showing on account of him roasting Vox's privileged white ass.

He's become Hip With The Kids.

(He's quietly thrilled by the new following he receives. This would have NEVER happened during his era.)

Thanks for the tag Rose! These are just going to be my most recent ones lol, I can't choose between my children

Alastor (Hazbin Hotel)

Halt O'Carrick (Ranger's Apprentice)

Zane (Lego Ninjago)

Bumblebee (Transformers [anything but Bayverse tbh])

Optimus Prime (Same as Bumblebee)

No pressure tags: @guesswhocouldntsleep @that-hazbin @lonely-lost-insanity @justaticklishdeer

five comfort characters, five tags

(had to start a new thread, got too long) thanks for tagging me @loulooser ooh i like this okay - nick nelson (osemanverse) - aled last (osemanverse) - peeta mellark (hunger games) - linh song (keeper of the lost cities) - xavier hawthorne (the inheritance games)

tagging @lyssified @mister3127 @raeny-nights-and-faery-lights @weirdo09 @charliethinks

Oh, for sure - I got you

Alastor didn't actually know that his tentacles were ticklish. I mean sure, he knew he could feel through them - getting them stabbed and cut off whenever he fought more powerful demons made him quickly understand that. However, sensations felt through his tentacles are a lot different then they would feel in his body. Any sort of major injury to them definitely hurts him, but not as much as if the same thing were to happen to his arm or leg. It is because of this difference in sensation that he actually realized they were ticklish at all. Vox tends to throw electricity around during their battles, and while it stings like hell if it touches Alastor directly, the first time it touched Alastor's tentacles, he almost choked. It tickled violently in ways he couldn't even begin to describe, but he knew he had to get out of there before he lost his composure. This sudden freeze-and-retreat obviously made Vox think he'd won, so he started using this tactic during every single battle. He assumed that the electricity hurt more when it hit Alastor's shadowy extra limbs, but it was the exact opposite. By the end of every battle, Alastor would be fighting belly laughter harder than he was fighting Vox.

One battle, Alastor couldn't get away for some reason, and Vox is just going full-out trying to take advantage of his upper hand to send as much electricity at Alastor's tentacles as he can until his rival begs for mercy. And....he does. Just not in the way Vox was expecting. Alastor starts off with desperate little whines and squirming only to finally burst into wild cackles when the feeling gets too overwhelming. Vox is so stunned he can't even think to stop the electric shocks, so Alastor's laughter just gets more and more desperate until he's eventually begging for mercy. Vox is over the fucking moon. This wasn't what he was trying to do, but it has to be the best thing he's seen ever. Somehow Alastor manages to get away, but Vox NEVER lets him live it down, constantly teasing him about it, or sending electricity to attack Alastor's tentacles whenever they're out

Rosie knew about the voodoo dolls. She was the only person besides Alastor who knew. She kept one in case he got into a really bad lee mood and needed her help with it but was unable to got to her for whatever reason. Of course, him not having a phone led to a few close calls where she would start tickling the doll when he wasn't in a good setting for her to do so. Late afternoons reading in the lobby were ended in a flood of panic and muffled giggles because he'd suddenly feel invisible claws teasing his sides. His casual observation of bonding exercises would be interrupted by a sudden burst of laughter as phantom fingers suddenly drilled into his armpits - he had to hurriedly pretend he'd been laughing at the foolishness of the exercise rather than anything else, though he wasn't sure how successful he'd been with that one. One particularly memorable night where he'd been out hunting in his bayou ended with him muffling his desperate squeals into the grass and thrashing wildly as his bounty bounded gracefully away. It was his own fault, really. Not only had he refused to get a cellphone to communicate their "sessions" properly, but he'd given Rosie the doll in the first place to help with both his lee moods and her ler moods. This meant that he was fair game if she was feeling particularly devilish. Of course, she wouldn't do it if she knew he was doing anything important, and Alastor had to admit that he gained quite a bit of entertainment from the unexpectedness of it every time. Even if that meant spending a dinner at the hotel fighting giggles in his seat and choking back squeals and other embarrassing noises because she'd decided on a night of soft tickles and would explore every sensitive spot she knew of with merciless precision

Charlie had had the bright idea to hire spa workers for the day and have them visit the hotel as a reward for the residents. Massages, pedicures, manicures, you name it, they probably had it. Alastor already knew what would happen if he got a massage, so he spent the whole day eyeing the masseuses suspiciously and refusing to go anywhere near the tables (if everyone else assumed it was only because he didn't want to take off his suit, they were welcome to believe that was the biggest issue). However, because he'd been so set on avoiding getting a massage, he didn't stop and think of the possible consequences of getting a pedicure, allowing Charlie to convince him to do it with her, Vaggie, and Lucifer. He didn't realize what was about to happen until Charlie began giggling a little bit as the worker began filing the inside of her cloven hoof. Alastor had the sudden blinding realization that he was about to die get the exact same treatment, so he tried giving flustered excuses about why he couldn't do it anymore. Charlie begged him to stay, and Lucifer started teasing him - which Alastor obviously would not back down from, so he sat his ass right back down. When the worker lifted his hoof, all of his bravado vanished. He tried to fight it at first, but within the first few seconds, he was a mess. He was twisted all awkwardly in his chair, face bright red and buried in his hands, and shoulder's shaking with muffled laughter. Naturally, everyone caught on pretty quick, which only made everything infinitely worse when Charlie started cooing at him, Vaggie and Lucifer started teasing him, and even the worker started patronizing him telling him it was okay to just laugh. Somehow, things got even WORSE as it continued, because for some reason his left hoof was much more sensitive than his right, and the worker had started with his right. When they started filing at his left hoof, he shrieked before beginning to laugh loudly and squirm, trying his hardest not to yank his leg away or kick the poor worker in the face. Eventually, the pedicure ended, but Alastor was never going to live it down

bruh, I don't know why I did whole-ass mini fics, my original intention was to just share my headcanons about your headcanons. Can't take it back though, I'm just gonna put it out there and hope you all appreciate it lol

Some Lee!Alastor Headcanons to Fuel My Brain

The lee!alastor tag has been painfully empty for the last few days, so I've decided to contribute a few headcanons of mine for you all to see and consider as you wish. Feel free to add on to this post with headcanons/rants/fics/whatever of your own if you want, I was just personally experiencing withdrawal symptoms and needed to fuel my addiction lol

(These are tickle headcanons for those unfamiliar with the terminology. If that isn't your thing, just scroll right on by)

First thing's first. Something I think everyone is sleeping on? Scalp massagers. Specifically the wire ones. I personally think those things are ticklish as fuck, and I'm far from the only one. The majority of us have come to the agreement that Alastor's ears are also ticklish as fuck. Just take a moment with me and imagine the potential:

Someone (probably Angel, or Lucifer) gets a scalp massager and is going around trying it on other hotel residents when they aren't paying attention. It's just for fun, and they're getting the typical reactions (jumping away, super startled, or just completely Unphased). Then, they manage to catch Alastor by surprise and do it to him, but instead of the typical reaction, Alastor startles before bursting out into staticky giggles. Alastor has no clue WHY it tickles so much, but it does, and he's practically paralyzed in a weird half-curled position as whoever has the massager just keeps running it over is head over and over. He can't try to escape, he can only giggle and babble out nonsense words, especially when the ends rub up against his ears which only makes it MORE ticklish, which he didn't think was possible. After the other demon shows mercy (and somehow isn't immediately slaughtered) Alastor develops a healthy fear of the massager, and grows incredibly anxious with anticipation and adorably flustered any time someone brings one out

Speaking of massagers brings me to my second headcanon. This man CANNOT get a massage or he will absolutely die. People who are tense can be more ticklish as a result, and since Alastor is already incredibly ticklish, having tense muscles makes this 100x worse. I have really tense shoulders, and any massage there immediately makes me hysterical, and I imagine Alastor would be the same. If he was comfortable enough to do so, he would be the kind of person to absolutely die if he were to get a full-body massage because it would tickle so damn much - even through the pain that comes with massages. Rosie likes to pretend to massage his shoulders and neck just so she can tell him to stop squirming and giggling so much because she's trying to help him

Another quick headcanon. I like to imagine that he's mostly covered in fur, and while it isn't terribly long in most places, it can still get tangled after a shower, or after being smothered by his clothes all day, so he has to brush it regularly. This is an absolute nightmare for him. Even when he's brushing his own fur, he has to stop every few seconds because he starts laughing too much in certain areas, like over his sides or belly for example. No matter how often he does it, he never gets used to the feeling, and it only gets worse if someone else (usually Rosie) does it for him. At least if he does it himself, he can stop once he starts laughing. It makes it take a long time, but it's less flustering. If Rosie (or Satan forbid someone else for whatever reason) brushes his fur, she usually tries to get a much done at once as she can, so she usually keeps going until he's begging for a break. Also, she thinks it's absolutely adorable, so she'll keep brushing areas that make him squeal long after all the tangles have been removed

Last one for now is that he can feel the static from people's phones. If he's close to someone when their phone rings, he can usually feel the static of it crawling teasingly over his skin. It usually isn't a big deal, but if someone is being bombarded by calls that they keep ignoring (let's say Valentino obsessively calling Angel Dust), the static quickly becomes overwhelming and he'll beg the person to answer their phone or turn it off, if straight up bashing it against the nearest wall isn't an option. It doesn't tickle a particular area, more of an all-encompassing tickle over his entire body. If he gets to the point of begging them to answer, it's usually because he can't hold his laughter and squirming anymore and is trying not to make a fool of himself. He feigns annoyance so people don't find out the real reason he wants the calls to stop. The secret comes out when Angel absolutely refused to answer Valentino one day, but didn't want to turn off his phone because he was in the middle of doing something on it, and Alastor finally broke and curled up where he sat, giggling hysterically and begging Angel to turn his phone off

That's all I have for now, I hope you enjoyed these headcanons. If you decide you like them enough to incorporate them into anything you write/draw, tag me!!! I'd move to see it. Also, as mentioned earlier, feel free to add onto this as you wish, I'd love to see how you all make these headcanons your own

Wish I Could Love You

HA, you though that just because the last thing I posted was fluff, that I'd ease off the angst train??? Well April Fools bitches, I'm back with even more angst than before!!!!!

Here's the Ao3 link

TW for some serious acephobia (internalized and otherwise) and references to conversion therapy. Also a bit of self-harm at the end, because Alastor has trichotillomania in canon (as seen during his meltdown). If you want to avoid that, it starts at "Crimson claws" and ends at "tears". It's just one sentence, so you won't miss much. There is also a brief non-con kiss. I just wanted to vent the aroace pain from close friends confessing romantic feelings, and I almost made myself cry at work, so fun times

(PS: this does not mean I think ships with Alastor are not valid. I myself am in a happy long-term relationship. Asexuality and Aromanticism are part of a spectrum which means there are many ways for it to be interpreted by those who identify with the terms. There are a few ships with Alastor that I love, but the people writing them have to be careful to consider his identity while doing so)

ANYWAYS, I'll stop rambling now and let you read the fic

An evening spent with Vox was always guaranteed to be interesting. That was part of what had drawn Alastor to him in the first place after all, the Radio Demon forever seeking entertainment. However, after twenty years of friendship even Alastor could admit he was no longer in it for the entertainment factor. Even through his lifetime of severe emotional repression, Alastor was smart enough to see that he had grown to genuinely care about the TV demon - which had led to quite the emotional meltdown on his part, embarrassingly enough.

All of that was besides the point. The point was that even though they were just having dinner in Vox’s apartment as they did at least once a week, things still had yet to become dull, which was quite the accomplishment for someone whose attention was as flighty as Alastor’s. 

As Vox rambled about this new guy he had met - Mateo? Stephano? No, that wasn’t it - Valentino! As Vox rambled about this Valentino character, Alastor mused on the relationship he had with the TV demon. The red-head had never had a positive relationship with another man before, besides Husker of course. That hardly counted though, considering he owned the former overlord’s soul. Vox was truly a novelty. 

“Hey, Alastor?” The deer demon was pulled from his thoughts by his friend’s slightly hesitant tone. He focused back in on Vox’s face, and was a bit confused by the way Vox’s gaze was darting around the room. It looked like he wanted to look at Alastor but was too flustered to do so, a slight red glow lighting up the lower portion of his screen where his cheeks would be.

“What is it?” Alastor asked, slightly wary of the strange atmosphere that had filled the air around the couch they had chosen to share. His ears pinning back was the only outward sign of his unease. 

Vox finally seemed to get over whatever was keeping him from making eye contact, but Alastor couldn’t help but wish he hadn’t. He didn’t know how to process the unbearably soft way the other was looking at him. His stomach lurched unpleasantly, as though he had missed a stair. 

Vox reached over and gently took Alastor’s hands in his own, and Alastor suddenly found himself wishing he hadn’t set his plate on the coffee table - it would have given him an excuse to avoid this soft contact that felt far too intimate, even with their long-term friendship.

“I’ve wanted to tell you this for a while, but it never felt like the right time.” Vox shifted one hand so that it gently cradled Alastor’s cheek, and as he continued, Alastor’s smile shrunk to the smallest it had been since he had been forced to maintain it - unable to turn downwards, but begging to reflect the dread blooming in his chest.

“But, I’m tired of waiting for ‘the right time’. So, I’m just gonna come out and say it.”

“Vox…please,” Alastor begged, voice refusing to rise above a whisper, and static mangling his words. Internally, he was screaming, begging on his knees for Vox to stop before he said something he couldn’t take back. Vox either didn’t hear him or didn’t understand what he meant, because the TV demon continued forward.

“I love you, Alastor. I have for a long time, and I want to spend the rest of my afterlife loving you. We’ve been friends for such a long time, and I want to move to the next step in our relationship.” Vox was positively beaming, warm love and sincere affection in his eyes as he peered deep into Alastor’s soul - unable to see the pain he had wrought with those three words.

Alastor was crushed. His throat closed up and it felt like a clawed fist had clenched around his chest, his heart aching and lungs unable to draw breath. He tried to choke words past his constricted throat, but couldn’t force anything out. His brows lowered as his scarlet eyes widened, burning with hurt and shock.

Vox’s own brows furrowed in concern at Alastor’s silence. “Alastor?”

Alastor could barely hear him over his rushing thoughts. He felt so…used. How long had their friendship been based around Vox’s desire to get into his pants? What parts of their relationship had been genuine friendship rather than a furthering of Vox’s goals for a romantic partner? Was this Alastor’s fault? Had he done something to encourage this?

The worst part was the guilt. Alastor couldn’t say it about very many people, either in the living world or in Hell, but he truly loved Vox. He loved him as he loved Rosie, and he saw the other demon as the brother he’d never had in life, but that was the problem. He could never give Vox what he wanted. Alastor knew he was broken - the doctors had confirmed as much while he was alive, and the medications and more aggressive treatments he had received for his dysfunction had never worked as intended. 

Vox deserved so much better.

His eyes burned and his stomach clenched with nausea, and Alastor fought back tears that hadn’t fallen since his mother’s passing. Alastor wanted to love Vox that way, if only to spare his feelings, but he just couldn’t. 

Vox leaned forward, taking Alastor’s silence as a positive answer, and as he guided Alastor’s face in for a gentle kiss, the deer demon panicked. He lurched back as their lips connected, accidentally throwing himself off the couch to lay in a crumpled heap on the floor. 

Vox looked startled as he took in Alastor’s panicked expression, and made to stand as Alastor scrambled to his feet. 

“Alastor, what - ?” he started, reaching for the shorter demon’s hand. Alastor jerked back as though he’d been burned.

“Don’t,” he hissed defensively, clutching his hands to his chest like he was afraid to be within touching distance of the other demon. “Don’t touch me!”

Vox looked crushed. Alastor felt as though a spear had stabbed through his heart: he caused that expression on Vox’s face. 

“I won’t - I can’t - !” Alastor growled in pain and frustration, unable to articulate his thoughts. He tried to think of something, anything that could salvage their relationship before things got out of hand, but the rage growing in Vox’s expression burned that possibility into mere ashes. The anger masked the hurt that had been there previously.

“Are you kidding me?!” Vox didn’t quite shout, but to Alastor, he might as well have screamed through a megaphone. The deer demon took two steps back for every advance Vox made, feeling uncharacteristically like prey. He was used to having control over every interaction, but this had quickly spiraled into something monstrous.

“Twenty years of friendship all for you to get pissed when I say I want to progress things like a normal person would?! I waited, wanting you to be comfortable because I know you need time to adjust to people, but you still don’t care about me enough to even consider it?! If you never wanted me, why did you lead me on? Why did you pretend to enjoy my company if you knew you would reject me? Is my pain really that funny to you? Fuck, Alastor - can’t you see how hard I’m trying?” Vox had backed Alastor into a corner, and the deer demon was reminded violently of his youth - long hours spent cowering beneath someone who wanted nothing more than to make Alastor wish he was never born.

Alastor hadn’t felt this small since he had made his deal, and he had never assumed he would feel that way around Vox. The Radio Demon was so overwhelmed with emotion, that he did the one thing he had promised himself he would never do again.

He ran.

As Alastor fled into his shadows, he felt Vox’s arms try to wrap around him and prevent his escape, and heard the TV demon’s frustrated and agonized cry as he slipped under the door. He didn’t stop until he reached his radio tower, and reverted back to his more solid form once he was safely inside.

Alastor backed away from the door until his back hit the wall, and he slowly slid down it until he was sitting on the floor with his knees curled to his chest. A soft, staticky whimper forced its way past his lips before he could silence it, and the tears he’d been fighting finally burned fiery tracks down his cheeks. Alastor’s breath hitched, and he buried his face in his knees, wrapping his arms around his head and legs in a futile attempt to muffle the choked hiccups.

Sobs tore out of his throat from a place deep within his chest, wracking his whole body with the force of them. Stitches pulled at the corners of his mouth, forcing him to grin through his tears, and he had never wished so strongly for the ability to stop smiling. Crimson claws fisted in his hair, scratching at his scalp in his panic and sending small rivulets of blood down his face to merge with the tears.

Alastor had just destroyed one of his closest relationships because he was so broken that he couldn’t even reciprocate affection normally. It was all his fault, and the guilt tore at him in ways he hadn’t felt in decades.

Drowning in grief for the bridge he’d set ablaze, Alastor couldn’t stop thinking about how - outside of his treatment plans - Vox had stolen his first kiss.

Halt's Brain Damage

I mentioned Halt's head trauma in an earlier post, and said that I would elaborate on it. Well, this is my elaboration. Keep in mind, I am not a health care professional, I am only certified to perform first aid. I am only speaking from what I have witnessed in someone who has had a similar condition from a motorcycle accident, and from what I find and cross-reference in my internet search on the matter.

Halt, as we know, has suffered MANY blows to the head - a lot of which could have been fatal if not for the intervening hand of Lady Luck and some very conveniently placed Plot Armor™. Now something that both the characters in the books, and probably a good portion of the readers either don't know about or haven't considered is the resulting brain damage - or more specifically, the damage done to Halt's gray matter.

For those of you who don't know (no shame), gray matter is tissue in the brain that is largely responsible for motor functions, emotions, and memory. Gray matter cells are known to be the longest lasting cells in the body, but they do tend to degenerate and die as people get old. There are other things that can speed up the process of gray matter cell death, most notably Alzheimer's disease, Parkinson's disease, multiple sclerosis, and traumatic brain injury.

I have a friend who was once in a bad motorcycle accident that resulted in a metal rod and screws being put into his wrist, and a sudden increase in gray matter cell death brought on by the head trauma. He was a teacher of mine and currently has a wife, daughters, and grand daughters, and he is just over fifty years old. I had the same class with him all year for 4 years (JROTC), and during that time, I was able to see how the condition affected him as time passed. He does make jokes about it, and is very open with it. I also asked him if it would be okay to post this beforehand, don't worry. The symptoms that Halt experience in my headcanon align with this because it is my closest experience with it.

Obviously, these characters don't know what gray matter is, but that doesn't mean it won't affect Halt, and some of these symptoms are things that Halt experiences in the books. I'll give examples of that too.

One of the symptoms of gray matter damage is difficulty controlling emotions. Now you may be saying, "But Void, Halt practically patented the ability to control emotions," and you're right. However, we all know that Halt has a pretty quick temper that can lead to some rash decisions - and this seems to get slightly worse as the books go on. One of the biggest emotions that people with damaged brain matter have issues dealing with is anger - closely followed by sadness and feelings of emptiness (AKA signs of depression).

Another symptom of gray matter damage is memory loss. The only example of this I can think of off the top of my head (that doesn't include when he was poisoned which is a whole other type of trauma) is when he had extreme trouble finding the correlation between the red hills and Redmont in book 7. Then again, it was a stressful situation and no one can be expected to notice everything. Not to mention that he was the only one to make the connection at all. This one and the next one are more for angst potential then as current existing evidence. Imagine really quick as Halt gets older that the memory loss starts slow - forgetting that he already told someone something, forgetting where he put something, etc. Small stuff. But later, it gets worse. He starts to forget meeting new people, important past events, how to cook certain things, or even just trailing off in the middle of a sentence - unable to remember his original purpose for speaking, almost as if a sort of fog has started blocking things out. A lot of times, he'll know that he knew it at some point, but sometimes, he doesn't remember that he knew that thing in the first place. Sometimes gentle reminders will work, and other times, entire stories, recipes, and tasks will have to be completely re-hashed with him.

The final symptom I'm going to cover in this already too-long post is how gray matter damage affects fine motor skills and language. I'm fairly certain that there is an example of this somewhere in the books, But I would have no clue where to look. We're going full angst potential on this one boys. Again, it starts small - some slight tremors in his hands here, a troublesome button there. Then, it gets worse as the years pass. Having difficulty tying knots, writing getting more and more difficult, cutting his hand while trying to prepare food, dropping his mug of coffee for no apparent reason, sometimes slurring his speech, forgetting certain words from other languages, not realizing that he had reverted back to Hibernian in the middle of a sentence because his brain temporarily stopped being able to comprehend Araluen speech.

Halt doesn't want to tell anyone that the changes in his behavior that he can't seem to control frighten him. He's never been genuinely afraid of his own mind before up until he could no longer control what happened. It was a type of fear he was unfamiliar with, but couldn't stop from growing every time he failed to tie a knot, or someone told him about an event he couldn't remember. Everyone else was afraid too, but they toned down their own fear whenever they saw that desperate look in Halt's eyes that he couldn't quite hide, the one that begged for any confirmation that he wasn't crazy.

What the hell. I just wrote an entire essay. You know those posts that say, "In this essay I will discuss..." but they never get to the essay? Yeah, that but completed. This was born from the fact that Hal't has had a bunch of head injuries and I immediately thought 'haha brain damage go brr' and proceeded to write that in essay form. If you've made it to the end of this monstrosity, more power to you.

I'm going to try to go into a coma now.

Alright guys, guess it's my turn to provide the lee!Alastor content since everyone else has these past few weeks. This is a part two to "Consequences" (if you haven't read that, you should, it's in the same series as this one if you want to read it)

I keep ricocheting between qpr radioapple and parent-child bonding between Lucifer and Alastor because my daddy issues demand that I project on Alastor, and Lucifer - an arguably okay father - is right there I just want Alastor to feel safe and protected and cared for, is that too much to ask???

Anyways, hope you all enjoy, let me know what you think!!

After Alastor's last panic attack, Angel's been keeping a close eye on the Radio Demon. Unfortunately from what he can tell, the overlord hasn't been doing too hot since the extermination, and it's only a matter of time before everything boils to the surface.

OR

An idea from @TeddyLockwood in the comments of the last one in this series, where Alastor is coping with his injuries from the battle. I couldn't say no to another opportunity to write Alastor whump with Therapy Pig Fat Nuggets lol

hi, i just wanted to say i loved your newest fic <3

also the hazbin groupchat was hilarious. the way you write the characters was so fun to read XDDD

Thank you so much! And I promise, I should be able to get the last chapter for "Growing Fawned of You" out soon, I just had to take a temporary hiatus for work. The group chat fic should also hopefully see an update sometime soon

"Of course I have a lot of pent up rage. I've been the same height since I was 12."

-Halt O'Carrick